We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.

I can elect something I love and absorb myself in it.

I reserve the right to love many different people at once, and to change my prince often.

People living deeply have no fear of death.

He had never seen her body so abandoned, so unconscious of all but the desire to be taken and satisfied. She bloomed under his caresses, no longer the girl but the woman already being born.

I take pleasure in my transformations. I look quiet and consistent, but few know how many women there are in me.

I gathered poets around me and we all wrote beautiful erotica. As we were condemned to focus only on sensuality, we had violent explosions of poetry. Writing erotica became a road to sainthood rather than...

You have a right to experiment with your life. You will make mistakes. And they are right too. No, I think there was too rigid a pattern. You came out of an education and are...

At first I protested and rebelled against poetry. I was about to deny my poetic worlds. I was doing violence to my illusions with analysis, science, and learning Henry’s language, entering Henry’s world. I wanted...

Before, as soon as I came home from all sorts of places I would sit down and write in my journal. Now I want to write you, talk with you… I love when you say...

There is a fissure in my vision and madness will always rush through.

Djuna had wanted a life of desire and freedom, not luxury but beauty, not security but fulfillment, not perfection but a perfect moment like this one…

life is truly known only to those who suffer, lose, endure adversity, & stumble from defeat to defeat.

To capture the drama of the unconscious, one had to start with the key, and the key was the dream. But the novelist’s task was to pursue this dream, to unravel its meaning; the goal...

This great handsomeness I took into myself later when he desired me, but I took it as one breathes air, or swallows a snowflake, or yields to the sun.

We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.

I put artistic values above all others. Because writing, for me, is an expanded world, a limitless world, containing all.

Only the united beat of sex and heart together can create ecstasy.

¡Los ángeles del sexo! Son maravillosos precisamente por lo mucho que sorprenden, por lo mucho que cambian. Tú por ejemplo, con tu aspecto de que nunca te han tocado, puedo imaginarte mordiendo y arañando. Estoy...

How can I accept a limited definable self when I feel, in me, all possibilities?… I never feel the four walls around the substance of the self, the core. I feel only space. Illimitable space.

Every gesture was one of disorder and violence, as if a lioness had come into the room.

I must be a mermaid, Rango. I have no fear of depths and a great fear of shallow living.

The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery.

He was jealous of her future, and she of his past.

I walked into my own book, seeking peace.It was night, and I made a careless movement inside the dream; I turned too brusquely the corner and I bruised myself against my madness.

I must know, he thinks. It must be clear to me. There is a world which is closed to him, a world of shadings, gradations, nuances, and subtleties. He is a genius and yet he...

The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison, was the miracle.

What I corrupted was what is called the truth in favour of a more marvelous world. I could always improve on the facts.[…] in self-defense, I accuse the writers of fairy-tales. Not hunger, not cruelty,...

She abandoned herself to his whim, thinking it was to be an orgy of eyes and hands only.

How wrong is it for a woman to expect the man to build the world she wants, rather than to create it herself?

You haven’t loved yet,” he said. “You’ve only been trying to love; beginning to love. Trust alone is not love, illusion is not love, desire alone is not love. All these were paths leading you...

I have such a fear of finding another like myself, and such a desire to find one! I am so utterly lonely, but I also have such a fear that my isolation be broken through,...

The role of a writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say.

With her eyes alone she could give this response, this absolutely erotic response, as if febrile waves were trembling there, pools of madness… something devouring that could lick a man all over like a flame,...

Men can be in love with literary figures, with poetic and mythological figures, but let them meet with Artemis, with Venus, with any of the goddesses of love, and then they start hurling moral judgments.

When she closed her eyes she felt he had many hands, which touched her everywhere, and many mouths, which passed so swiftly over her, and with a wolflike sharpness, his teeth sank into her fleshiest...

Do not seek the because – in love there is no because, no reason, no explanation, no solutions.

One discovers that destiny can be diverted, that one does not have to remain in bondage to the first wax imprint made on childhood sensibilities. Once the deforming mirror has been smashed, there is a...

No one was ever born without that light or flame of life. Some event, some person stifles or drowns it altogether. I was always tempted to resuscitate such men by my own joyousness or luminosity.When...

I looked at it [revolver] as if it reminded me of a crime I had committed with an irrepressible smile such as rises sometimes to people’s lips in the face of great catastrophes which are...

I feel a little like the moon who took possession of you for a moment and then returned your soul to you. You should not love me. One ought not to love the moon. If...

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness,...

Living never wore one so much as the effort not to live.

Through books I discovered everything to be loved, explored, visited, communed with. I was enriched and given all the blueprints to a marvelous life, I was consoled in adversity, I was prepared for both joys...

And in his eyes he had the look of the cat who inspires a desire to caress but loves no one, who never feels he must respond to the impulses he arouses.

I am only responsible for my own heart, you offered yours up for the smashing my darling. Only a fool would give out such a vital organ

The light was crude. It made Artaud’s eyes shrink into darkness, as they are deep-set. This brought into relief the intensity of his gestures. He looked tormented. His hair, rather long, fell at times over...

I am lonely, yet not everybody will do. I don’t know why, some people fill the gaps and others emphasize my loneliness.

If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don’t write, because our culture has no use for it.

I see enormous loves growing immense and finally crushing me.